And Then There Were 2
by anzoonza
Summary: Oliver and Felicity's first weekend away as a couple, to Wayne Manor. Where Bruce Wayne and Vicki Vale try and break them up. Also a murder mystery! This story will be in chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Story Title: And Then There Were 2

Author Notes: This takes place in a post Season 3 world where Felicity and Oliver have gotten together but it's still a very new relationship. Palmer Industries is now Queen Inc. and Felicity's running it. Oliver is still the Arrow. Gotham has a Bat (whose personality is much more Michael Keaton than Christian Bale or any of the others).

Thanks for reading! Any feedback is appreciated! This story can go on if it's working, we'll see...

Chapter 1 - Oliver

"You gonna go meet up with Felicity?"

Oliver turns to where Diggle is zipping up his sweatshirt. The training had run long and both were standing on weary legs. "I need to text her."

"So things are going well?"

"What makes you say that?"

Diggle smiles, "when's the last time you were at your apartment, Oliver?"

It takes him a minute but then he remembers, on Sunday he had breakfast with Thea. It is now Wednesday.

"Tell her I say hi, and that Lyla's going to call her about a security thing."

"Sure," Oliver says.

Diggle slings his bag over his shoulder and heads to the door, "hey Oliver."

"Yeah."

"Don't hide the fact you're happy, man, it's good to see."

Oliver watches Diggle head out, contemplative. Diggle is always right. Diggle has things about life figured out that Oliver doesn't. But it doesn't mean Oliver should just jump full focus into his actual-relationship with Felicity, that's just not a good idea. Maybe he should put a little space back in. An hour ago she texted she was going to be stuck at work for most of the night. Maybe if she says she's still at work, he'll just go back to his apartment. Space is important. This can't be one of those things where they go from zero to married. This will be a normal relationship, a casual relationship. Even if he's made it clear this is not a casual relationship, had told her he loved her before they ever got to second base, and there's nothing about that feels even remotely normal to him. A few minutes later she texts back, "crazy day, definitely need to be here for awhile. Are you done training?"

He texts back, "yes", determined to just go home.

"Ok, you want to meet here? Is Dig there? Hi Dig!"

He will just go home. To his apartment. Thea will be at the club late so it'll be empty. Which is fine, he'll be alone, which he likes. Except this morning when he woke up, he woke up to Felicity managing to find the weirdest place to sleep on his body, so that her nose was pressed against his neck and shoulder. When he woke her up and she realized where she was, she giggled. And it made him laugh. Only later, did it occur to him, in one of those fleeting abstract thoughts that only happen when making love: she had slept on him and he hadn't woken up. In fact he had slept well. Really well. It had been years since he could be touched in his sleep without coming fully awake, ready to attack. Just the other week Thea had touched his shoulder and he had jumped up. But in Felicity's bed, it didn't bother him.

Oliver thumbs the phone for a moment and then texts back: "I'll come to you. Dig says hi. Lyla needs to talk, she'll call you. Not tonight."

So much for space. Alright, fine, he admits, he's happy. So he's going to follow Dig's advice but just stay cautious as well. When he arrives, he finds her barefoot, hair down, watching something on a television screen with deep concentration. Her assistant Gary is thankfully nowhere to be seen. They don't get along. Gary thinks he can regulate when Oliver talks to Felicity. Gary is an idiot. "You've been here past midnight every day this week."

Felicity turns with a smile, "you sneak past Gary?"

"Yes," he says, coming up and kissing her. "What's up?"

"Bruce Wayne," she says. "There's Thai on my desk. How was training?"

"Long. What do you want with Bruce?"

"Do you know him?"

"From back before the island," Oliver drops his bag on Felicity's couch and heads to her desk.

"What do you know?"

"That we never got along. That he's a jerk."

Felicity looks past him, to the TV. Oliver smiles when he realizes Felicity has left exactly half of everything in the containers. "You knew I was coming?"

"Hmm?" She looks at the containers. "Hoping."

He grins and takes a bite of the food.

"I have to go to Gotham."

"Gotham?" Oliver says dryly. Gotham is dark, unsafe and too far away from Starling. He knows Felicity has to travel for work, he knows she can handle herself. The idea still bothers him.

Felicity hands him a silvery-white card. Oliver reads aloud, "the pleasure of your company is requested at the third annual Wayne Manor Murder Mystery Weekend." He stops, "you're going to this?"

"Yes," Felicity says.

"Why?" It comes out a little sharper than he intended.

Felicity gives him a glance of disapproval, "because earlier today, Bruce came into my office and handed me it."

"He came here?"

"He's looking to do business with QI."

"Or you."

"He specifically mentioned some projects in R&D and applied sciences..."

"What projects?"

Felicity stands back up, going to the television. "That's the thing, he knew a lot. He was... well, he was impressive is what he was. He knew a lot more about engineering than..." She trails off, turning up a news bulletin about Bruce Wayne's take-over of a Dutch holding company.

Oliver stops eating the noodle mid-bite. Felicity is rarely impressed and when she is, well, he doesn't like it is what. Especially when it comes to billionaire industrialists. "So he gave you this invitation and talked about doing business together? Is that it?"

"That is it."

"Except he invited you, and only you-"

"Noooo, nooooo, not what you're thinking. See me, then see Vicki Vale. He dated her. She turned down DiCaprio. Not that I wouldn't turn down DiCaprio, I would. I mean, I'm happy. Really really happy. He hasn't asked, by the way. DiCaprio. Or Bruce. Oliver, interrupt me at any time..."

This could be a time to mention he had met Vicki Vale back in his college days but it doesn't seem important. Or at least as important as Felicity needing to realize people hit on her way more than she realizes. "So you want to go to Gotham for a weekend with Bruce Wayne?"

"Not with Bruce Wayne, to a party hosted by Bruce Wayne. It's business," Felicity says. "Besides this gives me some time to investigate the whole Bat thing. Do you think it could be him? I mean, he wouldn't be the first billionaire industrialist to go night time crusader..."

"No way, not Wayne. He's too... neurotic."

"Well I can at least check while I'm there, give Cisco a break from Operation Bat-Obsessed-Much. Oh, Gary's back. Let me check with him and then we can go, okay?"

"Felicity.."

She turns at the door, "hmmm?"

"Why haven't you asked me to go?"

"To go - where? To Gotham?"

"Yes."

"Oliver, it's a weekend away."

"So?"

"So it's... it's... we've only been together a month..."

"Yeah but we..." Oliver falters. "What's your point?"

"It's a step, a big one."

He shakes his head slightly, confused.

"It's an entire weekend away. You and I, all day, every day, for four days. Then we would be there as a couple, a public couple. That's a lot of commitment, Oliver. I know you... you like to take it slow or well, take it never to commitment," Felicity pauses. "I didn't mean it like that.."

She's wrong. He can do commitment. Laurel, well perhaps not Laurel. Sara, well perhaps not her either. But this is different. He knows it is. She should to. Except she apparently doesn't. "I'll go."

"Oliver-"

"We've spent days together before. I know you have Felicity things. I've got that."

"And the going public thing?"

"Since when are we hiding our relationship?"

"We're not. What about the step, it's a definite step?"

"I am not concerned."

"You seem really confident about this."

"It's just a weekend. We've been through much worse."

"We don't know that yet."

"Felicity-"

"Ok, you're in," Felicity looks at him, almost disappointed, "but this still could be a giant disaster."

"It'll be fine."

Felicity nods, "I think this," she waves her hand between them, "would be much easier if you weren't so good looking. It's not easy dating you when you just do perfect things in this whole outfit thing you have going on. I feel like I should do more. Should I learn to cook? Do you like muffins? I can learn to make muffins."


	2. Chapter 2

The invitation says two p.m. which is exactly when they cross the front gate. They are a punctual couple, she thinks. According to Google maps, Wayne Manor sits on thirty four fenced-in acres on a peninsula of land before the Gotham County Reservoir. Already it's impressive, the trees are tall and dark, the driveway winding around them like it's trying to obscure any chance to get one's bearings. It's all very Agatha Christie and she can't help but be a little excited. She would text her Mom, a die-hard Christie fan, but then she would have to say what's happening. Felicity doesn't want to announce her relationship with Oliver until after three months. It's just still new. And a little unthinkable. Instead she looks over at Oliver. Despite a 5am wake-up and seven hours of driving, he looks relaxed next to her. He's in jeans and a black cashmere sweater but she notes it's the pair and the sweater that were tailored for him. A Moira thing from back in the day. It's a rich look, a really good one. For her part, it's a red wrap dress, black shawl and sandals. Hair down, glasses off, which she doesn't like but apparently there could be welcome activities. Just the thought of "welcome activities" is causing concern, but she trusts her ability in making excuses to get out of anything. Unless it's actually like a murder mystery and they're given forensic equipment, though that seems unlikely. It must be like Clue, or something. "Are we going to role play? Because I do not want to role play."

Oliver's breath catches in his throat, "what?"

"Not you and I! Well, I mean.." Felicity takes a breath. "For the murder mystery weekend. Are you going to be Colonel Mustard and I'm Miss Scarlett? Because this is the only red dress I brought."

"Who are they?"

"From Clue. It's a board game. And a movie. I just-"

Oliver takes Felicity's hand and squeezes it. "They would have said something in the invitation if we were supposed to come in character."

"Right." She looks at him. He's not nervous. Not surprising. Despite the fact he hates it, he's great at this.

"But if you want-"

"If I want to what?"

He looks over at her, a glint in his eyes.

"I never should have told you about the whole Robin Hood fantasy.."

"Or the QC one," Oliver says, turning the wheel.

"That was yours." Felicity smiles at the memory. Movie night. They had watched Robin Hood. Or well, half of Robin Hood. It had all fallen apart when she casually mentioned she had a definite thing for Robin Hood. Oliver had then casually mentioned he had a few things in common with Robin Hood. Felicity agreed. They forgot the movie. After she made him own up to one. He said he missed tech support. A lot. "You really do have a thing for glasses, Mr. Queen."

"I would think that obvious, Ms. Smoak-" Oliver's voice trails off as they catch the first sight of the house and the two impossibly perfect individuals standing in front of it. Felicity has seen impressive, the Queen Mansion is impressive. This makes the Queen Mansion look like a 1970's split-level. It's a masterpiece of Gothic architecture and stone work. It shouldn't be a house. It should be Oxford.

"Is that - I thought they broke up?"

"Vicki," Oliver says with a sigh.

She knows the face from pictures. Vicki is a patrician blonde, blonde that looks almost angelic-white in the afternoon sun. Her outfit seems better fit for Monaco than Gotham with it's dark cigarette capris and white box top. All pressed and perfect, like she knows she will be photographed. Felicity watches as she runs a slender hand through her hair and looks to Oliver with a wave.

"Do you know-"

"A long time ago."

"How well do you know her?"

Oliver thrums the wheel and looks to her.

"Well, this should be fun."

Oliver pulls the car to a stop, "it wasn't a big deal."

She really doesn't like thinking about Oliver's past and it's myriad, myriad conquests. It's not who he is, really. He just has a long, long history of being an idiot. Which is why she can't be jealous even though there are times when she would really, really like to be jealous. Or oblivious. Or for him to not be an idiot.

Felicity tears her eyes away from Vicki and her glassy, styled perfection to look at Bruce. As before, his appearance is stark, almost black and white. In her office, it was a black suit and tie, white shirt. Here, it's a black turtleneck and slacks. As if he were dressing to appear in an old film noir. Or just really afraid of color. He's handsome, well-built, but it's his eyes that absolutely enthrall her. As before, they seem to be picking up on everything and staring right through it. Including her.

Since their last meeting, she's done her homework on him. In interviews, he's aloof, clipped, seemingly lackadaisical. The sort of billionaire Oliver played at without all the playboy antics. If you look closer though, his responses become calculated, measured, always understanding the question being asked but refusing to answer. There's also a dedicated interest in engineering and chemistry, though no formal record of schooling on either. It's not a surprise, the rich can afford whatever teacher they want, but interesting that he would take such routes. It must be his father's influence on him, he had been a doctor. A good man. Bruce's eyes flick to hers as if he's heard the thought. She smiles and he smiles back with a formal, slightly awkward nod.

"Let's get this over with," Oliver says. "I'll get your door."

"My door?"

Before she can really figure out why Oliver needs to get her door, he's there and helping her out. When they stand, his arm goes around her. This must be an Oliver couple thing because she's never seen him do it.

"Ollie Queen," Vicki says, removing her sunglasses and coming down the steps like the Queen receiving well-wishers. She holds her arms out and Oliver steps into them. They kiss politely on each cheek. "I still remember hearing about your rescue. What a story. It's so good to see you again."

Her words are spoken with such intimacy that Felicity wonders if she holds the same "not a big deal" memory that Oliver has. Most likely not. Felicity tries to place when he could have known her and she realizes it was most likely during the Laurel period. Such an idiot.

"Felicity, this is Victoria Vale," Oliver says.

Victoria. Felicity tries not to roll her eyes.

"I prefer Vicki. It's a pleasure. Thank you for coming."

"Vicki, hi. You are.. you are really really pretty."

Vicki's return smile is polite but Felicity knows the look. In rich world, all first impressions must be that you're cool. Felicity cannot do this. She's still marveling at how Vicki's hair is perfectly still despite the early summer heat and the nearby reservoir. At least Laurel's look of disdain is better than Vicki's.

"Congratulations on Queen Inc.," Vicki says to Oliver.

"A recent spin-off," Bruce interrupts. "Palmer Industries to a newly created division, owned by Felicity. Welcome to you both."

"I read that but I just assumed you had some involvement when Bruce said you were coming..." Vicki says, keeping her eyes on Oliver.

Let the games begin, Felicity thinks. The news had buzzed constantly about Palmer Industries splitting back into what it had merged as not a year ago. Especially when it had been successful as it ever was. The icing on the corporate mystery had been when it announced itself as Queen Inc. It had been fun actually. Ray, Felicity and Oliver all released a joint press statement announcing it and then stating there would be no questions answered on it. And they hadn't answered questions. But last she heard, Vicki was writer/editor/photographer for some upstart new fashion blog, the internet's answer to Anna Wintour. Obviously Vicki didn't leave her work at home.

"I'm her plus one," Oliver says. "Part of the long-term relationship gig."

Felicity smiles at Oliver. It's probably not something a normal girl would go aflutter at, but she admires her man's ability to dodge questions. And well, blatantly lie as they've only been dating a month. But still, he's unflappable but always charming. Her very own Cary Grant meets hero of the night. It's a marvel because when you get right down to it, he's not the best communicator.

Vicki's eyes flick back to Felicity, again with a dismissive expression. It's the usual and she's used to it. Since they've known each other, anyone who doesn't know their secret doesn't get it. Felicity has heard the comments. When they first met, someone joked to her that the only time Oliver comes to work is to talk to her (that turned out to be sorta true). When she was his assistant, it was unbearable. Everyone, everyone, assumed it was because they were sleeping together (so not true). Now it's either that there's some secret business relationship or that it's just a fling he's having trouble ending. Felicity tries not wither under Vicki's scrutiny and finds it surprisingly easy. Moira must have loved Vicki though.

"Speaking of, Felicity, perhaps we can discuss business now. There will be people here. Soon. And then it will be a party," Bruce says. "We should talk before it's that."

"We should probably bring our bags-"

"Nonsense, the porter knows where to take them," Vicki said. "Go, go, Oliver and I can make our own fun."

Felicity tries to squash any notion of what their "own fun" looks like. Oliver squeezes her hand and kisses the side of her hair, "I'll be nearby."

Felicity nods and walks up the steps to where Bruce is. He turns and walks up without even a passing glance at Vicki. Odd, she thinks, but it's forgotten when they enter the main hall. It's the size of a small house, with brilliant purple parquet floors, wood-panelling and dark green walls covered in large portraits.

"You must like Gothic," Felicity said. "Or uh, Gothic Revival."

"It tends to fit the most amount of people."

"And that's what you want in a house? To fit a lot of people."

"Actually no, not at all."

At the end of the hall is a portrait, a woman in a silk dress. "That's Patricia Wayne."

"It is. My great," he pauses as if doing the math, "great, great Aunt."

"She redefined the lumber business."

"Also a big Gothic Revival fan. How do you know her?"

"She was cool. I like history. I didn't realize she was so pretty though."

Bruce nods, "you think so?"

Felicity looks at the woman with grey eyes, black hair and a haunting expression. "You don't?"

"I prefer blondes," he says, "this way."

Bruce opens a door and Felicity walks through. A long hallway populated by various chairs, all in different shades of green. "Lucius Fox speaks highly of you."

"He knows his stuff," Felicity says, passing what has to be a Renoir. "Is that-?"

"That's what he said about you."

They go through another door, now a room with mustard yellow walls and various stone sculptures, including a model of an aquaduct in the center. It's basically a shrine to Roman art and architecture.

Before she can ask what the purpose of the room is, they're in another hallway and then at a large oak door. "My office," he says, pulling out a key.

"Are we still in Gotham?"

Bruce smiles, "no, actually."

The room is massive but sparsely decorated. Grey curtains cover two windows, between them a table. in the back, in front of a wall of books, is a desk. Three monitors on the desk (she approves) and a television near it. He walks to the table and flicks on a light. "This," he says.

Felicity looks down, in the center of the empty table sits a small item in the shape of a bat and a desk light which shines a spotlight on it. "What is it?"

"Commissioner Gordon pulled it from a robbery site. It was lodged in brick."

"In brick?"

"Yes."

Felicity picks it up. It's heavy, like cast iron, but when she examines it, it looks almost like slate. "Is there something inside?"

"I believe so, what interests me more is what it's made of. I can't identify it and the closest I've come is something in QI's Applied Sciences."

Oh, right, Oliver's new arrowheads. She's put the bat back down and looks at Bruce. "Why does it interest you?"

"The vigilante here is using cutting edge science. I want to know whose supplying him."

"The Bat, you mean? Who says it's a him?"

"I suppose we can't be sure.."

"How did you get it?"

"Commissioner Gordon thought I could identify it. I want you to do it."

"Why?"

"Because it's what QI has been working on.."

Felicity shakes her head, "it's not us."

"Lucius Fox says you can be trusted. Prove it. Take it with you. Tell me what it is," he picks it up and hands it to her.

Felicity looks at the bat in her hands. She's not sure if proving it involves finding the Bat's supplier or protecting the Bat's supplier, or if it's all innocent. But something tells her this is more than just whatever she's holding in her hand. The thought occurs to her again: Let the games begin.


	3. Chapter 3

"Bruce has a thing for games," Vicki says.

Oliver looks out from the stone patio to the back lawn. It's been landscaped and decorated to look like a giant chessboard. The grass is cut in squares, light green, dark green, visible even under the crowd of people milling about on it. Throughout them, weaving to and fro, are waiters dressed to look like pawns, masks included. At the corners of the lawn are hedges cut to look like rooks and then knights. Rather than bishops, it's tall lamps that illuminate a long bar. Behind the bar, and the bartenders, on either side, is a small stage with two thrones, occupied by two sets of actors playing a king and queen. They whisper conspiratorially and look out at the crowd, pointing and discussing. It's elaborate, beautiful and a little unsettling, something his mother would have liked.

Vicki turns away from the crowd and leans against the stone railing, looking at him, "remember the last party we went to?"

He does. She had come up to him and given him a glass of scotch, said cheers, and downed her glass. Always a bit competitive, he had finished his glass his well. Next thing he knew, they were taking his jet to Switzerland. Eight days later, they broke up in Prague when his sister called to say Laurel wondered why he wasn't home for memorial day weekend. Not his finest moment. "You and Bruce… he doesn't seem like someone you would go for."

Vicki shrugs, "I wouldn't say that. Though we didn't last.. there's, I think it's difficult to get to know the real him. He keeps that pretty well locked away."

"Yet you're hosting this party with him."

"He's a friend," Vicki smiles. "You know, I could say the same about you and Felicity Smoak."

"Say what?"

"Nothing harsh. I like her. She's impressive. A Zuckerberg, all brilliance and aww-shux charm. Not to mention Queen Inc., whatever your role is, and I will figure that out, she's doing a lot for the city. I admire her commitment," Vicki leans in, "still can't see the appeal for you."

"You don't know her."

"No, but I know you," she says, coming close to him, "You always feign devotion to the good - Laurel, Felicity - but you don't stay devoted very long. It's just not you. You're… you're about risk, reward. Life. And all it's many fun things."

"Vicki," he says flatly.

She laughs and bites her lip, "oh you're no fun anymore."

"I'm fun, but I should find Felicity."

"She's right there," Vicki says.

He looks and there's Felicity walking in with Bruce, her eyes on Vicki. Oliver looks and realizes that Vicki is at his elbow, leaning in. When he goes to step away, Vicki links her arm in his elbow and says "delightful of you to join us, you're just in time for drinks…"

"Or a bell," Bruce says.

"Wha-?" The sound of a dinner bell chimes loudly, interrupting Felicity's question.

"You do love your formality, Bruce. Is it for dinner or getting dressed for dinner?"

"Getting dressed. Dinner is two bells," Bruce says.

When Oliver looks at Felicity, she's looking at Bruce with an expression of amusement and bafflement.

"I'm assuming we'll be able to find our room?" Oliver says to Bruce.

"I know where it is," Felicity says. "Bruce and I stopped there before here."

"Great," Oliver says, extricating himself from Vicki. "Let's go."

Oliver grabs Felicity's hand, pulling her forward. Felicity catches up to him, "happy to see me?" She smiles, "come on, let's go up to the room. Which is really, really nice by the way."

A few minutes later, he's sitting on their plush, king bed, holding the bat. "He gave you this?"

"Yes. So he's not The Bat," Felicity replies, pulling out her ponytail. "Which, bad news for The Bat because he's determined to figure out who it is."

"Who would have the technology for something like this?"

"Basically us but it's not us."

"Is that why he gave it to you?"

She flips on the shower, "he said that I had to prove I could be trusted. Whatever that means. Oooh, even the water pressure is fancy. Are you joining me?"

His gaze goes up to her, "do we have time-?"

"No," she says. "This is for you. You need to put the bat thing down and get in this shower."

Oliver glances at the clock, it's forty-five minutes until dinner. He sighs, gets up, and goes over to her, "we could be quick."

"We have yet to do quick," Felicity says. "We'll do later."

"We better," he says, giving her the device before he shucks off his shirt.

Felicity smiles, goes over to the Bat and puts it in a drawer near the night-stand. It lingers in his mind as he enters the shower. There's something familiar about the situation, he just can't name it. By the time he finishes his shower, he's got it. "It's recruitment," he says exiting.

Felicity sits, indian-style on the ground, a mirror and make-bag in front of her. Her hair is brushed out, pinned up to one side, slightly curled. It reminds him somewhat of their first date. "Nice hair," he says absently.

"Thanks. Recruitment because he's supplying the Bat?"

"No because it's him."

Felicity holds her eyeliner, "you said that wasn't possible."

"I was wrong."

"But…" Felicity pauses, "he gave me the bat-thing. Can you-?" She says, gesturing to her back.

She stands and he walks over, casually untwisting where her bra strap and slip strap have become entwined. When's he done, he runs his fingertips down her arms and kisses her shoulder, "I gave you my laptop."

"Not the same," she says, "for one, I worked for you. Two, this thing leads me right to him, as the Bat. You were only slightly less obvious, but an important slightly less."

"He's untrained. Unstable. Reckless. Where's my-?"

Felicity stands, goes to the closet and pulls his tux from it. She hands him it and goes back, talking from behind the door, "so were you but you knew enough not to give me an arrow, well, one of your arrows. And even if he is, we don't know enough-"

"I do," Oliver sighs, throwing off his towel and reaching for his underwear. "I just don't know why he's putting you and Vicki in the middle of it."

"Vicki?"

"Yeah, they're not together anymore. She says they're friends, but… something's going on. I need to check him out," he says, pulling on his pants.

"Woah, wait, no."

"Felicity—"

"Oliver, we are at a party. A really, really nice party with a lot of people. Important people. Including one very nice, very wealthy, host who owns a company that Queen Inc. would really like to do business with. We are not going Arrow on him," Felicity comes out, holding her dress, "also we are not going Arrow. We have our own whole secret thing to protect here."

"I don't go Arrow—"

"You know what I mean," he looks down at his bow tie, wondering if he still remembers how to tie it.

"Felicity, he started this. Not us. Look, Vicki knows this house in and out. It'll be easy. We'll go tonight after dinner when the mystery starts."

She pokes her head to the side of the door, "you're going to tell Vicki you're the - ?"

"No but I'm pretty sure I can get her to give me a tour of the house. I'll think of some excuse. Where is his office?"

"Oliver, no. This is supposed to be Felicity/Oliver, normal business people, weekend. Not Arrow and.. whatever I am.. weekend," Felicity comes out from behind the door. There's a moment where all he wants to do is just take in the dress, and the way her right leg looks coming out of the dress. "Leave it alone."

"I'm just-"

He really doesn't see the difference but when she grabs her purse and abruptly moves past him, he knows she's mad. She gets to the door and turns, "Oliver, he just gave me that. There's no danger. Can you just be my boyfriend tonight? Please. We'll eat crab puffs, solve a fake murder-"

"It won't take me long. Vicki and I will just-"

"You and Vicki will just-" Felicity says, her eyes narrowing. "Alright Oliver, you know what, go look into it. Have fun. Tell Vicki I say hi. I'll be at the party. Not being crazy."

Before he can protest, Felicity has left the room. He wants to go after her but he's half-dressed and barefoot. In silence of the room though, he wonders what exactly she's upset about. It's simple. Bruce can't be trusted. They have to investigate. Oliver turns and buttons his shirt, completely baffled. Behind that thought though is the image of Felicity standing in front of the door, in that dress. In the bag it had looked almost like a wedding dress, something that had unnerved him and then had him wondering what exactly she thought on that topic. Could it be something he saw for them, down the road, if it -? Oliver pushes the thought away. They were a month in. Space. Also that is not a wedding dress. It's form fitting, slit up to her thigh, scooped at the top with just a tiny strap so that when she turned, you could see most of her back. Oliver picks up the pace on his dressing. When Felicity decides to turn the volume up, she goes to eleven. That dress, that hair, with the red lip, is twelve. He may need to investigate Bruce at some point but there is no way, no way he's leaving her alone tonight.

It can't be more than ten minutes after she had left but by the time he reaches the ballroom, he realizes he's late. Bruce must have invited over a hundred people, all of whom are now enjoying drinks and food. He looks through the group but can't find Felicity. It occurs to him that they may have been fighting in the room. This bothers him. He doesn't like the idea of Felicity being mad at him or not wanting to see him. Vicki appears in the corner of his eye, looking sharp and severe in a dramatic black dress and black leather opera gloves that only works because she's the sort who makes everything work. She gives him a nod, beckoning him over, but he shakes his head. Several people say his name but he ignores them.

Just when he's about to say screw it and yell her name, he sees her hair. She stands in front a large picture window, her back to him, with Bruce and two other men. Of course Bruce is with her. Felicity is catnip to people like him. Ray, Barry. It's a thing and he's learning to deal with it. Or with them. Bruce sees him and taps Felicity's shoulder. She turns and gives Oliver a curious, expectant look. He knows it: it's the 'what are you doing?' look. He returns it with the 'what did you expect?' smile. Felicity's face lights up and he feels a palpable amount of tension leave him. Not a fight. Or at least, not an important one. He moves towards her.

He's barely taken a step when, with a thud, all of the lights in the ballroom go out. Oliver looks to where the windows are but those are now curiously dark. The thud had been a curtain. There are audible gasps and he feels people pushing slightly at him. He pushes forward though, thinking Felicity will wait for him. Immediately he's met with a wall of people and has to draw back. He figures she's about twenty paces from him, not far but not close either.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, WELCOME!"

The gasps fall off and the room breaks out into sighs of relief and scattered applause. Oliver glances around, now only able to make out the most basic of shapes. Great, he thinks, the mystery.

"As some of you know, Wayne Manor is a house of many secrets. When it was built, the Waynes insisted that there never be a master design plan which led to all sorts of surprises along the way. Secret rooms, tunnels, floating foundations, you name it. Nobody knows how many rooms there really are. Or where the house ends and begins. Maybe you'll find it though. We hope you do because, ladies and gentlemen, you may lose everything else!"

There is a crack and on the far wall, a large sheet of parchment appears, surrounded by lamps that look as if they were pulled from the turn of the century. Nice. The header of the sheet reads "Rules" in an ancient-looking script. He reads the first line, "Rule 1: Never tell all you know, not even to the person you know best, for this is a game of foes, to hell with all the rest."

Before he can read the second rule, the lights flash back on. Oliver flinches and looks to where Felicity is, but she's no longer there. Neither is Bruce. He turns and looks around but it's clear a significant amount, perhaps half, of the crowd is now gone. Those remaining look at each other in astonishment, then smile, then laugh, finally erupting in another round of large applause.

"Your mystery awaits!" Oliver looks over to where a man stands on a table, the King-actor from the chessboard, now in a full is a pop and tens of champagne bottles open behind him. "Or perhaps mysteries await you!"

The people in the room move towards the Rules sheet, eager and excited. Oliver looks back to where Felicity was standing. He pulls his phone from his pocket but a finger making a tisk-tisk motion comes into his vision.

Vicki smiles widely at him, "now, now, no cheating."

He ignores her, swiping his thumb and moving to the text window. No signal. "You're kidding me.."

Vicki laughs, "like I said, Bruce loves his games. Partners?"

For those who want to know these things (because they're fun), Felicity's dress is Ralph Lauren Collection, what Emma Watson wore to the UK premiere of Noah.


	4. Chapter 4

Felicity follows the shuffling crowd through the corridor until they're in yet another large room. When the lights go on, she immediately scans for Oliver. He's not there. Felicity sighs and looks down at the card she was given upon entering the ballroom: "Shhh, you're a murderer. Tell no one and say nothing when the lights go out. You will be guided to a separate room for instructions."

When she looks back up, she realizes she's not the only one whose lost their half as only a few couples linger about, and that Bruce is not with Vicky. Which puts her on Team Oliver. Felicity squashes it, along with the very recent memories of Oliver making his plans around her. She knows better to think something will happen between them, but still... Vicky in her perfect black gown, their history, his history. Oliver eight years ago. It's all a reminder that not so long ago, she just wouldn't have fit. Vicky would have fit. Vicky did fit. Only when he became an ex-billionaire, masked, crime fighter of the night with a deeply unsettling five years of international hijinks and misery did he start looking her way. Of course, to be fair, she didn't start looking his way until she became a secret world class hacker who went from being an IT assistant, to a secretary, to a VP, to CEO of a corporation that essentially is a part-front for equipping the League of Heroes. Felicity sighs, sometimes she really does miss usual.

"So now you know, you did it. The question now is how and who you will do it too..."

Felicity follows the voice to a man dressed in a black on black tuxedo who is standing on a raised landing not far from her. The crowd around her smiles and mumbles, obviously excited.

"But first, like any good criminal, you will need supplies and a map. Right now your victims are being told what an unusual abode Wayne Manor, and it is that. It is not, however, inscrutable. At least not with a map."

On cue, she is handed a small, laminated card that provides a detailed map of Wayne Manor. Felicity looks down at it, suddenly amazed. There are more rooms than she imagined and what appears to be four different floors or five. Felicity looks at Bruce, thinking of the painting in the corridor of the beautiful woman with mysterious eyes who designed the place. Maybe Oliver is right after all. There's definitely something about him she can't put her finger on. Once again, as if he's heard the thought, he looks right at her. Felicity feels her cheeks go pink and looks away.

An attendant interrupts her embarrassment and hands her a small slate colored gadget, on it is a small screen with a number and small dials.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your murder weapon... right now, your victims are being given a white gadget. When this gadget comes into contact with that gadget, you will know if your victim is alive or dead. If they are alive, you will attempt to claim their life by hitting the dial on the right corner. Be warned though, the other gadget may chose to make a noise, fight back, or some other possibility. In other words, dark corners are now your friends. At the end the weekend, the murderer with the most claimed lives will be our winner. Unless a victim wins, but that's for them to know how to do and you to find out."

Felicity studies the gadget but finds it to be as straight forward as the man says. She pulls her clutch and pops it open so to put the card and map in, but something stops her. It's a light grey card next to her phone, something she does not remember putting in. Felicity pulls the card and reads. "If you value the life of Oliver Queen and others, you will meet me in the solarium at 8:45. Come alone or someone will die. Say nothing or someone will die. We're watching." Felicity looks up, her breath catching in her throat. The card for the game had been white with neat, block black letters, like the invitation. This is grey, hand-typed, the ink faded in certain parts of each letter. Quite literally type-written. Her hand shoots up, "are you handing out.. extra cards? Perhaps light blue cards?"

The man gives her a quizzical look but speaks politely back, "no."

Felicity looks back down at the card and then fishes for her phone in her bag. She pulls it out, 8:09pm. She goes to text Oliver, then stops. They're watching. Someone in the ballroom wrote this card and then put it into her clutch. Which means they're good because she does not have any idea how that happened. She needs to tell Oliver but when she goes to text, she notes the lack of signal. Her hand shoots up again, "is this part of the game, us not having us a cellphone signal?"

There's a chuckle amongst the group and then an older man leans in, "this must be your first year."

The man smiles at them and continues on as if the question was never asked. Felicity sighs, frustrated. She glances back at her phone: 8:11pm. She pulls the laminated map and finds the solarium is located on the west side of the house, the far corner. So not only did they write the card, drop the card, they knew she would have some way to find the solarium - meaning that she would be given a map. Her eyes go to Bruce. It very well could be him. It's possible. What's more than possible is that whoever did this knew about this game, about this weekend, and is watching her. It leaves her no option, she'll have to go to the solarium. Without Oliver.

It takes another fifteen minutes for the crowd to finally part, moving slowly back into the main hall. Felicity separates by claiming she needs to put something back in her room. The stairs and what she now knows to be the guest quarters are quiet save for the faint sound of the party reconvening below. It reminds her of a tour of Alcatraz she took in high school, of hearing the inmates say the worst night was always New Years Eve because they could hear the parties in the city echoing across the water into their cells. At the time, she thought it must have freaked them out. Now she sees it differently, it was not the eeriness of the voices, it was the loneliness of knowing you can't get to them.

Felicity moves down the hall and back down stairs, stairs she had taken earlier with Bruce when they had come up to drop the bat. It seems like a very long time ago. As does waking up before dawn with Oliver to leave. Oliver. She wants Oliver. It occurs to her that she may very well be going to someone who knows he's the Arrow and wants to use that. Or that it's a trap. It's not smart of her to go without telling him but the only way to tell him is to find him - and that's dangerous and would take too much time. Felicity pushes it all away. She's done more dangerous things. Of course one of those ended with her being thrown from a roof and in the hospital for three weeks with several broken bones, a punctured kidney, spleen, and the worst headache she's ever had. But that had ended well. Well after Oliver almost killed Ray, Ray almost killed him back only to have them form the League of Heroes so that Ra's al Ghul didn't destroy everyone's life and make Oliver an immortal warlord. But after that, well.

Felicity swallows when she hears the music. It's a piece she knows, Nocturne in C-Sharp. It had been a favorite of one of her professors at MIT, he played it over and over again during his office hours, whether a student was in there or not. After several months, she had gotten used to it. She doubts it's him behind the doors though.

The solarium, like Bruce's office, is lined with windows each framed in black iron. Behind the windows, the water of the reservoir gushes violently but she hears nothing of it. Several tables are around the room, some with lamps set to different intensities as plants in test tubes and pots grow underneath them. It's more a greenhouse laboratory than solarium but as she gets further in, she sees a small sitting area in the back where the music is coming from. And then two figures.

One, a thickly built man, stands near a table with a record player on it. The other, on a chair, is an older woman. She's wearing a dark suit with a large onyx broach and her silvery-white hair piled on top of her head in a neat, demure ballet-style bun. Rich, she thinks. The woman looks quite literally, expensive. When she looks back at the man, the only thing that sticks out to her is that he has boyish features except for a horribly paunchy and crooked nose. Thankfully neither of them look like the super-villains she has gotten used to. Of course, they don't exactly look friendly either.

"You do not know me and I know very little about you," the woman says, in a polished voice devoid of accent. "What I do know is that recently Palmer Industries decided to break into two entities: the first, Palmer Industries, with new headquarters in Capital City. The second, Queen, Inc., which took over its current headquarters in Starling City. Apart from these changes in geography, the two entities are strongly linked due to Ray Palmer's absolute confidence in his new CEO."

"Uh huh..." Felicity says, wishing she could remember Oliver's tips for handling cryptic bad guys.

"So strongly linked that you have full and complete access to his servers, to his inventions, to his... prospective patents..."

"I don't-"

"Device incorporating the management of certain unknown elements," the woman says. "Ray Palmer has been working on a new patent entitled 'device incorporating the management of certain unknown elements.'"

"Oh...kay."

"You will access this prospective patent, give me any and all information pertaining to it, and then delete it completely from the Palmer Industry and Queen Inc. servers."

"That can't be done. Even if I could, I'd..."

"It can be done, Miss Smoak. You are capable of much more."

"I am, but what you're asking..."

"If you want Oliver Queen to be alive at 10:31 a.m. on Sunday morning you will deliver this to me by 10:30 a.m. Sunday morning."

Felicity blinks, processing the flare of terror and rage at the threat.

"To avoid any skepticism on your part, my colleague has coordinated proof of my intent. As well as proof that we will be watching."

"What sort of proof?"

"Evidentiary. We shall talk again Sunday. You will be given instructions on where to meet."

This is clearly her sign to depart but Felicity can't quite seem to break the woman's gaze. "If any harm comes to anyone: Oliver, me, anyone. I will make your life a living and breathing, inextinguishable hell." Felicity turns and then turns back, "fiery fiery hell."

The woman smiles, "I am sure you believe that. We will see you on Sunday."

Felicity makes it out of the room and down the hall without throwing up or breaking into a run, which she takes as a personal victory. When she comes up on a powder room, she goes inside and locks the door. She sits down and takes a breath. Her laptop is with her, she can at least find the patent to figure out why this woman would want it. "Woman, ha!" Felicity grumbles to no one. "Cruella is more like it. And he looks like a dog."

She needs to figure out who Cruella has watching her. And she needs to find some way to tell Oliver. Felicity stands but then immediately sits back down. Cruella doesn't seem to know Oliver is the Arrow. "Will telling him make her know that?" Felicity clamps her hand over her mouth. If she's being bugged now, then... wait, she was going to get evidentiary proof she was being watched. It could help. Or it... Felicity stands back up, worried as to what that is going to look like.

It takes her longer than she thought to get back to the ballroom and when she does, she feels like she's re-entering earth from some distant orbit. People laugh and talk, jazz music plays, there's food and drink everywhere. It's as if the quiet halls and dark features all around them sit waiting to be filled rather than in the state of preferring stony silence she had imagined them in coming back. Felicity scans the room for Oliver, anxious. It doesn't take her long to find him. He's standing in a group of people with Vicky and Bruce. As she nears, he turns his head absently only to turn completely when he sees her.

He heads toward her, his face dark. "You're here," he says, his voice tight.

She can't help it, she wraps her arms around him and kisses him. He's okay. They're back to together. To her surprise, he returns the kiss eagerly. When they part, she slides his hands down his arms but before she can step back, he puts his arms around her and lets his eyes flick over her. She knows this, this is Oliver worry. "Do you-?"

Oliver talks over her, "a woman's gone missing. She was outside with her date. He went in to get them more champagne, when he came back out, she was gone. No one has seen her sense," he trails off as his eyes do another scan of her, "some people saw you after the curtain fell. But when you didn't rejoin the party..."

"A woman?"

"Yeah, where were you?"

"It's- I-"

"Everything okay?" Felicity looks at Vicky, who is standing with Bruce whose gaze is fixed on her.

Felicity looks back to Oliver whose looking at her as if they're not there at all. Her eyes stay on his as she thinks about the missing woman. Oliver opens his mouth to speak but Bruce speaks first.

"How was the solarium?"

Felicity feels her heart drop from her chest and her knees go weak. When she turns her gaze back to Bruce, Oliver's arms tense around her. "Felicity," he says.

"Surely QI will consider the greenhouse-partnership now. I have the contract ready for you to sign. If you will follow me..." Bruce says.

He knows. Felicity panics and jumps away from Oliver, "I'll go!"

Vicky stifles a laugh and only then does she understand how odd she must look. Felicity takes a breath, "I mean, the contract, right..."

"It can wait until morning," Oliver says.

"No," Bruce says. "It can't."

Felicity looks at him pleadingly.

"We'll do the tour of the house," Vicki says. "It's the perfect time-"

"Can we have a minute alone?" Oliver says.

Bruce's gaze narrows for a moment and then moves to Felicity, clear warning in his eyes. Felicity breathes, it's not menacing but she gets the hint. Oliver tugs her over to a quiet spot and rests his hand on her arm, "what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Felicity..."

"You know, house, spooky."

Oliver's eyebrow raises. Felicity glances at Bruce, "I will tell you later."

"Now you will tell me now."

"I can't."

Oliver steps even closer to her, "what's going on?"

It's something they've never talked about, their need to be as close as physically possible when talking. She didn't even think he knew he consciously did it until he immediately started doing it again after the hospital, when they had sorta made-up. Now, being together, it's less intense. She doesn't fantasize about his lips as much and if she wants to touch him, she does. But it's still ... and she'll never understand why, one of the most intimate parts of their relationship. Maybe it's because she thinks he started doing it (and it was him) because he wanted to create a little world of just them. Or maybe it's because he's just standing there, waiting for her to involve him, needing her to. Felicity touches his mouth, resting her fingers against the tuft of hair near the smile lines on his face, "I need to talk with Bruce. It's important."

Oliver's gaze hardens. She knows he's mad but Cruella had kept her promise: a woman had gone missing and Bruce knew about the solarium. She was being watched. And they were serious. She needs to be serious. And figure this out. Or at least figure out how to tell him.

Oliver makes a grunting sound, protesting, "I don't like this."

"If you come with me, Vicky will be all over her blog saying that Oliver is in on QI business, and we agreed that you can't be the head of the League of Heroes and head of QI. Go with Vicky."

Oliver makes another grunt, his eyes moving to Bruce, "one hour. Then we're in the room. No excuses," he says and then leans in, his eyes turning back to her, "or I will go Arrow."

It makes her smile, "you didn't bring your super cool outfit."

"I'll improvise," he says, a momentary grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Blah blah," Vicky says, coming up to them. "Come on, I want to show you the roof. It's amazing."

Too quickly she's standing with Bruce, watching Oliver disappear into the crowd with Vicky at his side.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this," Bruce says.

Felicity turns her gaze to him, her eyes widening. "What?"

"Follow me."

Bruce moves deftly through the crowd, an easy man to follow. Felicity takes the time to consider that the host of her party may be threatening her boyfriend's life to steal technology from Ray. While also asking her to look into technology for The Bat. Unfortunately they don't really match and she can't figure out what's going on. Felicity calms herself by imagining him being done-off in those strange ways of Edward Gorey stories. B is for Bruce who bit it while being bit by buffalo. B is for Bruce who was butchered by bumble bees.

At the end of a hall, Bruce stops in front of a large painting of what appears to be the 'right not might' fable from Arthurian legend. He turns and looks at her, his eyes hesitant. "I didn't want to do this..." He trails off, turning towards the painting only to turn back. "I mean, not like this."

With a press of the frame, the painting slides back to reveal a dark, stone staircase. "You are him- then why-"

Bruce nods, "we should talk about this downstairs."

"In your Bat Cave?"

"My what?"

"Nevermind," she says.

He gives her another look and then heads down the stairs. Felicity looks around and then follows him down.


End file.
